The Distant Threshold
The hall is a cavern of gaslight and velvet, a vast, breathing entity that swallows the sound of your footsteps before they even touch the floor. You stand at the edge of the grand ballroom, your hands trembling not from the chill that leaks through the stone arches, but from the weight of the secret that has settled into your bones like a cold stone. Around you, the aristocracy of the...
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